At first, the house-elf lived at Eaton Hall, remaining invisible to everyone except Richard.
The boy was satisfied with Donky's behavior. In polished shoes and an old children's suit that had been worn no more than three times, the house-elf looked much better. Yes, his appearance still left much to be desired, but the phlegmatic, unflappable manner of a prim butler—an attitude the elf had adopted—distracted attention from his unusual eyes, ears, nose, bald head, and grayish skin. In this guise, Richie would have been ready to keep Donky among the servants, especially since the Grosvenors had gone without a butler for several years already. But Gerald was against it, and in this house his word was law.
The previous butler had been so old that he had once served Grandfather Karl. He retired even before the transmigrator became Richard, and it would take a long time to find another servant of that caliber. The elder Grosvenor had placed an order for a new butler at a special educational institution that trained elite household staff. The problem was that all the graduates of this establishment were already reserved in advance. Of course, this wasn't slavery—the people themselves weren't purchased, only long-term employment contracts for them. Moreover, the salary for such servants was very respectable, roughly on par with that of a mid-sized company executive, and getting into such an institution was harder than entering some elite private schools. In short, it would be a couple of years before a new butler appeared at Eaton Hall, so, contrary to tradition, the gentlemen were being served by a maid.
Any tradition allows for exceptions. And if an aristocratic family suddenly found itself without a butler, the masters wouldn't turn up their noses at being served by a maid.
On June tenth, Richard took his final exam for the fourth grade of secondary school. The very next day, accompanied by Donky, Steven, Scott, and Harry Potter, he set off for Scotland to accept the builders' completed work. All five of them fit comfortably into the Bentley.
Donky sat between Harry and Richard in the back seat. Steve, as usual, drove the car, while Scott occupied the front passenger seat.
"So that's a house-elf?" Harry asked, curiously examining the small creature.
"Absolutely correct," Richard said. "How are things going for you, Harry?"
"Whew! School's finally over! Vacation!" Harry Potter practically beamed with happiness. "How about you, Richie?"
"Wonderful. I passed my exams, and now I'm free until September—like a bird in the sky, just flapping my wings. Remember how I wrote to you about finding Donky?"
"How could anyone forget that?!" Harry tried not to laugh but couldn't hide his smile. "I've never laughed so hard. The way you described that farmer was hilarious. I wonder if his kids will study with us at Hogwarts."
"Most likely. I didn't ask about Mr. Creevey's children's ages. Maybe one of them will start at Hogwarts this year, or perhaps after us."
"I learned a new spell!" Harry boasted. Then he let out a small yelp, covered his mouth with his hands, and glanced at Steven.
"Don't worry, Harry," Richard said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Steve works for the intelligence services and knows about wizards. Besides, if you hadn't noticed, Donky's been sitting with us from the start."
"Sir," the driver said with mild indignation, "please refrain from disclosing classified information about where I work and what position I hold. And about other agents as well, sir."
"Sorry, Steve. It won't happen again."
Once a word is spoken, you can't shoot it back with a blaster. Harry had already heard the important part and stared at the driver with admiration.
"Sir, excuse me," young Potter said, "but are you like James Bond?"
"Almost. I'm cooler!" Steven replied in a calmer voice.
"Wow!" Harry exclaimed in delight. "Do you have a pistol too, like Uncle Scott?"
"Of course," Steve answered.
"Harry, don't bother the man," Scott admonished his nephew.
"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly, then turned to his friend. "Richie, thanks for inviting me. I hardly ever go anywhere."
"Don't lie, kid!" Scott protested with mock indignation. "What about all those trips to the shooting range and fishing with me?"
"Um… that's not what I meant, Uncle Scott. I meant we were together then, but this time it's me and Richie."
"This is merely a routine trip to inspect a completed construction project," Richard noted. "Of course, we'll have a picnic with barbecue, but we could think of something better. Harry, how would you feel about flying to Disneyland in America in July?"
"Disneyland?" Harry's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Yep, Disneyland. We'll invite a good friend of mine—Justin Finch-Fletchley. Maybe Uncle Charlie will let Bill come along with us. It'll be fun. Though in that case, we'll probably have more security with us than a single bus can hold."
(End of Chapter)
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